


Hands On Experience Required

by orphan_account



Series: It's easy once you know how it's done [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-01
Updated: 2011-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-14 07:45:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/146987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel returns the next night for another lesson...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hands On Experience Required

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hsapiens](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hsapiens/gifts).



> Written for [kissbingo](http://community.livejournal.com/kissbingo/). Thanks to [hils](http://hils.livejournal.com/) for help with the title. Consider this an early birthday present for [hsapiens](http://hsapiens.livejournal.com/) :D

True to his word, Castiel is back the next night, suddenly appearing in the middle of the motel room. Dean feels sick -- he's been ridiculously nervous all day, pacing backwards and forwards, and Sam had eventually given up on him several hours before, declaring that he was getting his own room so he'd stop feeling dizzy. Dean hadn't bothered trying to explain to his brother that he was currently in the middle of an epic freak out over his entirely inappropriate blasphemous lusting towards an angel of the Lord.

"Dean."

And apparently Dean's body has decided to start pacing again. He really needs to calm the fuck down, but all he can think about is what Castiel's voice had done to him the night before when he'd asked Dean to show him how to jerk off. _Fuck_ , just remembering it is getting Dean half-hard again, and he's terrified that Cas is gonna notice soon. Because it's obvious Cas isn't actually _interested_ in Dean like that. He's an angel. He's not interested in _anyone_ like that.

So, yeah, he's not gonna stop pacing. It's the only logical solution.

Right up until Cas steps in his way, grabs his shoulders, and forces him to stop. There is no way that being manhandled should make Dean that little bit stiffer in his jeans.

"Dean," Castiel repeats, "you appear to be in a state of agitation. Is there something wrong?"

Dean really wishes he could have stopped the little hysterical laugh that escapes him, but it's too late. It's out there now. He keeps swallowing, his throat dry with nerves, and he doesn't know why. Cas hasn't done anything. Yet. He probably wasn't even being serious yesterday when he said he needed another lesson.

Although, this is Cas. He's always serious.

 _Fuck, fuck, fuckity-fuck_.

"Everything's fine, Cas. Did you need something, or are you just checking in?" Dean's pretty damn proud at how even his voice is, although he can't quite look Castiel in the eyes. Which leads to him looking at Cas' lips instead. Which is a _bad_ idea.

Cas just stands there staring at Dean until the silence between them starts to get really awkward, and Dean has no choice but to look Cas in the eyes. It's times like this that Dean forgets what a sneaky bastard his angel can be.

"I believe we had an arrangement for tonight, Dean. Although I have a slight amendment to make to the original plan."

Dean's almost certain that his heart is beating so loudly the people three doors down should be able to hear it. He keeps having random flashes back to last night -- the look in Castiel's eyes as Dean had wrapped his fingers around his own dick, the brief flash of tongue against Cas' lips as Dean had fucked into his own hand -- and yeah, okay, Dean is completely and utterly rock hard right now, trying desperately not to squirm in his jeans.

He clears his throat and attempts to take a step back from Cas, but his legs hit the bed behind him and he's left with no escape.

"What, er, what kind of amendments were you thinking of Cas; you got a random chick hidden in your trench coat?"

Cas just looks at him with quiet amusement in his eyes, and smiles softly, "Dean, I have no ‘chick' hidden upon any part of my person. Nor do I wish to have. I was serious when I asked you to show me how to do this, and you are the only one I wish to learn this from."

Dean can't stop looking at Cas' lips, and it takes a second for the words to sink in, "I guess you don't really have anyone else to show you this stuff, do you?"

Cas just looks at him, and then glances down at Dean's lips so fast Dean almost misses it, "something like that, Dean."

"So, er, what's this ‘amendment' you wanted to make?"

"Whilst I, ah _learned_ a lot last night, I still do not have a frame of reference for how the sensation _feels_. Instead of just watching you again tonight, I would like for you to ‘jerk me off'."

Dean feels all the air from his lungs rush out in one breath, and he isn't entirely sure that he can feel his legs right now. And yeah, he really likes Cas' new plan. More than he probably should, although he really could not give a damn right now about whether or not he'll go to Hell for corrupting an angel.

"Yeah, we could, ah, we could do that. If you want," Dean's trying not to let his eagerness show, but he's pretty sure he's not doing a very good job of it.

"Yes, Dean, I want," and Dean is pretty sure that he can see a glint of _something_ in Cas' eyes, but he can't wonder about that right now. Not when he has much more pressing matters on his mind.

Dean glances around the room while he tries to work out how to do this. He wants to make sure that this is good for Cas -- this is, after all, his first time having his dick touched. By anyone. Dean can't help but try to subtly press his hand against his own dick at that -- he really needs to calm down, or he's gonna come before he's even had chance to show Cas what to do.

Opposite the bed he's been sleeping in there's a long mirror attached to the wall, and Dean has a sudden mental image of himself sitting against the headboard, Cas in between his legs facing the mirror, both of them watching their reflections as Dean's hand dips down between Cas' legs to grasp his cock -- and Dean's dick actually twitches in his jeans with pure _want_.

"C'mere, Cas, sit on the bed in front of me. Take the coat, jacket and shoes off first though," Dean moves across the room to settle himself in the middle of the bed with the pillows propped up behind his back and his legs spread wide, and watches as Cas removes the ever present coat and suit jacket, placing them on the other bed, before bending over and removing his shoes and socks.

And, okay, maybe Dean shouldn't be perving on his friend quite so much while he's bent over, but he really can't help himself right now. He can only hope that Cas isn't going to completely disown him if he gets a little too, ah, _excited_ over this.

"Is this acceptable?" Cas is suddenly looking straight at him, straight _through_ him, and Dean can't help but feel like _he's_ about to be the one on display here.

"Yeah, get over here man," he adds a pat on the bed between his legs just so he's doing something with his hands.

Castiel kneels on the edge of the bed and crawls in-between Dean's legs, before turning around and sitting with his legs stretched out in front of him. Before Dean can tell him to scooch back a little so that he can actually reach him, Cas is already moving backwards to nestle his ass up against Dean, and _fuck_ Dean can't help but thrust into it briefly.

"Ah, fuck, Cas. You probably shouldn't do that--"

Cas doesn't bother to answer him, he just leans back against Dean's chest and tips his head back slightly to rest on Dean's shoulder, baring his throat.

"Right, yeah we should get down to business," and yeah, Dean's in serious trouble here. His dick is almost painfully hard and trapped in his jeans, and there is no way on this Earth that Cas can't feel it pushing up against his ass.

"Yes please, Dean," Cas moves his arms to rest on Dean's legs, his hands on Dean's thighs just above the knee.

Dean wraps his arms around Cas, begins to unbutton his friend's shirt and turns his head slightly to the left to whisper into Cas' ear, "I'd usually start here, take it slow. Do you want it slow, Cas?"

"Dean, I want to fuck your hand. I do not wish to go slow."

"Jesus _fuck_ Cas," Dean's hands forget how to work for a second, and he can feel his dick twitch and spurt pre-come into his shorts, "yeah, yeah we can do that, we gotta get you out of these clothes first."

Cas starts to unfasten the belt on his slacks while Dean attempts to finish unbuttoning Cas' shirt, and for a brief second Dean glances up at the mirror across the room and his eyes catch Castiel's. And he realizes that Cas has been staring at him. Again. God only knows when that suddenly became such a turn on for Dean.

He finally manages to wrestle the shirt off Cas, who then lifts his hips slightly -- leaning further into Dean to do it -- and pushes his slacks and underwear down in one smooth move, kicking them off his legs with his feet. At first Dean's view is blocked by Cas' back -- and it's a very nice back, lean and muscular -- as he leans forward, but then Cas reclines back into his original position and yeah, there's absolutely nothing blocking Dean's view now.

He glances up into the mirror again and is met by a sight he's pretty sure is the single most amazing fucking thing he's even seen. The kind of vision that wet dreams are literally made of. Cas has spread his legs apart a little so that they're pressed against the inside of Dean's, and his cock is hard and curving up towards his stomach. And he's looking at Dean again through the mirror. _Fuck._

"You need to take your clothes off as well, Dean," Cas doesn't look away from the reflection of Dean as he moves further down the bed to give Dean room to remove his jeans.

Dean's pretty sure there's probably a very good reason he shouldn't be doing this -- number one on the list being that it's gonna be pretty obvious that he's a little too ‘happy' about getting Cas naked -- but he desperately needs to get his jeans off and relieve some of the pressure on his dick.

So he pulls his t-shirt over his head, quickly undoes his jeans, and pushes them and his shorts off, kicking off his socks in the process. And yeah. He's sprawled naked on a bed with Cas, who is also naked.

Dean's pretty sure this must be a dream. A fucking _amazing_ dream, as there's no way this is real.

He leans over to the nightstand to grab the bottle of lotion still there from last night, pushes himself back against the headboard and rearranges the pillows behind him, "get back here, Cas."

And of course Cas pushes right back up against Dean again, and Dean's forehead drops down onto Cas' shoulder with a moan as his hips automatically thrust up against Cas.

Dean needs to come so badly -- needs to thrust up against Cas, _into_ Cas -- that he can barely think of anything else. But that's not what he's here for. He's supposed to be teaching Cas how to jerk off, so he needs to calm the fuck down and help his friend out.

He uncaps the lotion and squirts a little into the palm of his hand before dropping the bottle somewhere in the vicinity of the pillows, "you've gotta warm it up in your hands before you touch yourself, Cas. Gotta get it spread around, makes it easier."

Once his hands are nice and slick he slides his arms around Cas and lightly touches two fingers to the base of his dick. Dean can feel Cas leaning into the touch, and he can't help but smirk a little at the reaction before wrapping the rest of his hand around Cas' dick and slicking it up.

Cas drops his head back onto Dean's shoulder and lets out a sigh before whispering Dean's name.

"Watch my hand, Cas," Dean whispers into his ear, "you're not going to learn if you don't pay attention."

Dean watches as Cas opens his eyes and tilts his head forward to watch as his dick slides up into the loose circle of Dean's fingers, and Dean can feel the slight hitch in Cas' hips as he stops himself from thrusting into the touch.

"Do it. Fuck my hand, Cas."

He can hear Cas murmuring his name again as his fingers tighten their grip on Dean's thighs. He jerks his hips up and into Dean's hand, and _fuck_ the moan that comes out of his throat is completely and utterly sinful. Dean couldn't stop his hips from rocking up against Cas if his life depended on it, and before he even realizes what he's doing, he's mouthing along the side of Cas' neck -- licking and sucking at the skin -- as Cas tilts his head to the side to let him.

God, Cas is _letting_ him do this. He's letting Dean run his thumb over the head of Cas' dick, letting him nip at the juncture of his neck and shoulder, letting Dean thrust his dick up against Cas' back. It's too much and not enough all at once. He wants -- God, he wants to be inside Cas. Wants to grab the lotion and open Cas up, get him nice and slick, then rock into him, deep and hard, and _fuck_ Dean's so close. He's so close, but he needs to hold off a little longer, needs to tip Cas over the edge first.

"How does it feel? First time any one's ever touched you like this, right? I'm the -- _fuck_ \-- I'm the first one to ever do this to you?" and he knows he's babbling, verging on the edge of incoherence, but Dean can't stop himself from asking.

Cas is flushed all over, and he can't seem to stop pushing up into Dean's hand -- writhing around desperately, causing Dean's dick to slide wetly across the top of his ass. Dean could just grab him by the hips, lift a little, and he could be deep inside Cas, fucking into him, and Dean can hardly breathe right now. The slightest movement could be too much, too fast.

"Dean, I need -- _more_ , I need more," Cas lets go of Dean's thigh and locks his fingers with Dean's left hand before pushing their fingers down between his legs, past his balls, and _holymotherfuckingjesuschrist_ \-- Cas is using his own hand to rub the tip of Dean's finger around the rim of his asshole, enough lotion still on Dean's fingers to make it just slick enough.

Dean's brain pretty much short circuits when Cas applies more pressure and pushes Dean's finger in up to the first knuckle. He lets go of Cas' dick and quickly slides a hand between their bodies to grip the base of his own dick to try and stop himself from coming right the fuck now.

"Oh fuck, Cas, can I -- I need to fuck you, need to be in you," and that's not what Dean meant to say. _Shit_ , that's really not what he meant to say, but apparently his brain has its own ideas right now, and before he can panic and try and work out how to take that back, Cas is already moving, turning around to straddle Dean's thighs.

The look in Cas' eyes is pure, unadulterated _want_ , and okay maybe Dean had it wrong. Maybe Cas _is_ interested in him like that.

"You think too much, Dean," Cas mutters before grabbing the lotion, squeezing some into his palm, and warming the liquid between his hands, "see, I was paying attention."

And then Dean's world pretty much ends as Cas wraps his hand around Dean's dick, slicking him up, and rubbing his thumb against the nerves under the head. Dean's head thunks back against the headboard and his eyes screw shut in ecstasy -- how the fuck did Cas learn how to do this?

But that's nothing, absolutely nothing compared to the feeling of Cas lifting up and over Dean before sinking down slowly onto his dick. It's a slow and perfect slide, and Dean can barely even think any more -- Cas is so fucking hot, and slick, and _tight_ , that Dean has to grab hold of Cas' hips to hold him in place for a second before he completely fucking loses it.

"Watch me, Dean," Cas smirks, "you're not going to learn if you don't pay attention."

As soon as Dean's eyes open, Cas lifts up and slams back down, and Dean can't stop himself from gasping Cas' name, and pushing up into him, "how the -- ah -- how the fuck did you learn _this_?"

Cas' hands frame his face, tipping Dean's head back a little so he can lean in close, so close their lips are almost touching, and whispers against Dean's mouth, "I've been practising, Dean. The images you've been thinking of lately, the dozens of positions you've imagined fucking me in, I saw them. I saw them all Dean," Castiel starts rocking his hips back and forth, "and I knew you would never do anything about them. So I practiced. I touched myself. I masturbated while thinking of you, pushed my fingers deep into myself -- I fucked myself on my own fingers, and imagined you doing this to me."

"Oh fuck, you sneaky bastard, Cas," Dean grips his hips harder and holds him down while he thrusts up into him, a little breathless, "here I've been panicking thinking I was corrupting an Angel of the Lord, and it turns out you've been trying to corrupt me."

Cas actually gasps out a laugh between his almost constant moans, and it's that sound, the grin on Cas' face, that finally breaks Dean. Reaching up to pull Cas' face down the final few inches, he barely has a chance to kiss Cas properly before he's coming, white hot pleasure tingling down pretty much every nerve ending in his body.

When his heart rate slows down a little, Dean opens his eyes. Cas is trying to catch his breath, and smiling down at him. Dean's stomach feels warm and sticky, and he's a little disappointed that he missed getting to watch Cas come, right up until Cas leans down and kisses the tip of his nose before whispering into his ear, "there's plenty of time for more, Dean. I have no intention of going anywhere."


End file.
